《A Lonely Spiral》22 - Tripping on flat ground

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We reached the place where the warden’s hut stood – formerly stood – entirely too quickly. No one talked the entire way and even Pim had picked up on the tension in the atmosphere, choosing to remain silent as well instead of mustering the bravery to speak up.

For me, the silence was judgement enough.

He hates me. He’s probably already put the pieces together in his head and it paints an ugly picture. The nice lady and her son, dead because they had something I wanted. It wasn’t true, not in that way at least.

The nice old lady did die defending me. And I led the demon to her exactly because I was afraid, because I was weak and couldn’t stand my ground. I killed her. And then I ate her soul.

I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Maybe then he wouldn’t have noticed. I would’ve told him at some point! Outside of this place, back at the temple maybe. Where I’m not depending on him smashing every man or monster we encounter.

But no. Now he knows that I’m a coward, a murderer, a demon.

He gently moved his face from the only standing wall in the ruin to the left and right, surveying what was left of it. The destruction was so much more visceral than I’d seen before. Planks and shingles of wood were strewn between metal pans and pots, old knives and other kitchen implements. The door, a thing made of solid and thick wooden planks, was torn from its hinges in a show of desperate strength. There was blood on the corner of it.

As much as I loved being able to finally see and talk, the light and my sight was making it abundantly clear how much this was not a dream. How much I really couldn’t hide and run away from, well, everything. Seeing the consequences of my actions lying dead before me meant I couldn’t deny them or just stuff them in a box and forget about them.

I can still feel it. The skin sticking to my armor. The bite of rope, the gasps, the–

Two bodies, tangled and bruised like old prunes. Gaping mouths, interrupted in the middle of a yell or a plea. The face, torn, the expression, the eyes. The eyes. I shut mine tight and they’re still there, the eyes.

…I shouldn’t let Pim see the corpses. I shouldn’t let the wolf see the corpses. I shouldn’t let anyone see how I failed to defend myself, how it led to a nice, old lady dying and how I strangled the offending figure with a rope, not to save the old lady, but out of a feeling of hate and spiteful revenge.

That wasn’t me. That couldn’t have been me. I don’t want it to be me.

I opened my eyes and all I saw was the blood on my hands.

“I can hear weird sounds.” Pim said, pointing to the left. “O–over there.”

The wolf turned his head in a way that suggested he was not exactly looking straight at me, but past. He grunted, readying his sword and strode off in the one direction I didn’t want him to. I hobbled after him. He was going a bit quicker than was comfortable for me, but with a bit of grit and recklessly ignoring the uncomfortable pain in my left leg, I caught up and overtook him.

“W-w-ait, wait, wait one second! I said wait!” he came to a stop as I stepped in front of him.

“What?”

“I–uh–you shouldn’t go there!”

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“And why’s that?” He was playing dumb. Of course he was. He knew.

“It’s just that, well, you see…”

C’mon, say something good, something smart, something that’ll convince him, something–

“…I took a shit over there.”

We both stared at each other, and I didn’t know what I wanted to do more: scream, stick my head in the ground or jump down the nearest never-ending cliff. They were all options, but my body chose the middle ground, which was to stand, paralyzed in shame, with a head colored like a beet. The wolf didn’t seem convinced.

“It’s embarrassing?” I added, hoping that by some miracle he’d turn around.

He didn’t, of course, seemingly only spurred on by my improvised deflections.

“Wait! Wait, wait, I, I can order you! By your oath. To stop. I can do it.”

He turned towards me and despite the pronounced difference in size between us, I got the impression for the first time that he was looking down on me. It made me feel small. I shriveled under his gaze.

“That you could.”

He waited, politely almost, and my mind was considering the tradeoffs of leveraging the only authority I had over him to get what I wanted, opposed by him finding out what happened here and, well, I don’t know, judging me and then leaving me to die.

But my conscience wouldn’t let me just… abuse the power I had, to treat him like a minion just to hide my shame. It wouldn’t be right. To lie and to abuse just to hide my sins. It felt like an invisible dagger, threatening that should I make this choice, the selfish one, it would stab me in the heart and not ever go away. In a way, if I forced the issue now for selfish reasons like that, it’d just prove that I truly belonged in hell.

And I want to be a good egg.

Reluctantly, I stepped to the side and let the tragedy run its course. He watched me as I did before continuing on his road towards my damnation. Maybe he gave a curt nod before or maybe I was just imagining things. The bad thoughts were back again and no matter how tired I was, they always knew exactly how to clamp down on my attention.

Please just stop. For once in my life. I’m sick of making things worse just by existing.

They didn’t, of course, and in that storm of emotional catastrophizing, one thought stood out. It escaped my lips before I could think twice about it.

“Spare Pim.”

“What?” said the wolf, turning to me again.

“What?” said Pim, equally confused.

My mind blanked and I tried again to get out what was bouncing around inside my head.

“Promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll protect Pim.”

He gave me another look that I couldn’t quite understand.

Take off your damn visor! Please. It’s, agh, nevermind.

I got a snort, which was about as close to a ‘yes’ as it was to a ‘no’. I bit my lip as a mound appearing within my dim light revealed the rough contours of two bodies. Except they were wiggling, and squirming.

“More fleas.” The wolf commented dryly before walking ahead and casually skewering one of the six or seven that were feasting on the relatively fresh corpses of my two victims. He started swatting and poking at them until they’d either all been killed or punted into the darkness. Not one of them wanted to leave their meal of their own will.

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“And two bodies.” He circled around them, inspecting them, taking care not to get too close. They were considerably more shriveled up since I’d last seen them.

“Women. One human. No, a bit too big. Ah, the old warden. Runs in the blood.” He turned the corpse on top to the side with his sword to get a better look. “A bite wound on neck and left thigh. Broken arm. Bloodied fingertips. Swelling on the upper right thigh. Died of bleeding, I’d wager.”

The way he was calmly taking apart the injuries of the old lady drove my guilt further. She clearly suffered. It wasn’t a quick death. Or a necessary one.

It’s my fault.

“The other, Bekki. Or Bekki-blooded. Maybe a boon. Hard to tell. Dislocated right shoulder and elbow. Strong blunt impact, the old warden or the younger one–”

It’s my fault.

“Will.” I interjected. He paused to look up, but not directly at me. “H–his name is William. Will for short. Was Will, that is.” I was losing myself in unnecessary details, but the words kept flowing. “He’s dead too. Up the hill.”

It’s my fault. It wasn’t, but maybe it was. Erring on the side of caution I decided that it was.

He looked back at the demon woman’s corpse. “Old bruises and barely healed cuts along the thighs, back and lower body. Crushed left foot. Cracked hip.”

He pulled the rope, still clinging to her neck, back and nodded to himself. I froze, knowing more or less what he was going to say next and dreading it all the more. “Laceration along the neck. Bones intact, internal bleeding. Death by… strangulation.”

“…’m sorry.” I said, almost a whisper.

“What?” he replied absentmindedly.

“…sorry…”

He got up from his half crouch, looking straight at me for the first time during this entire exchange. I didn’t meet his gaze.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

“I–I, I… I killed them.”

The dam burst and everything flowed out of me, words, tears that I thought I didn’t have left. I told him everything poking the back of my mind as it came to me, haphazardly and out of order.

“I killed them! All of them! The demon and the –hic– old lady and Will’s dead because of me, too. They’re all dead, because of ME!”

It was liberating in the moment, because it all had to go, go out of my mind, my box and away, preferably to never bother me again and disappear forever.

“…and then I got here and there were three people. I thought they could help me, so I called out to them. And then they tried to stab me, beat me, kill me, eat me. I killed them back. I stabbed him in the neck, the first guy, completely on purpose. And then…

I started heading off, more rambling, incoherently, more what I felt than what I thought.

“…He fell down the cliff because of me. I didn’t check how far it was to the floor– what? No, not all the way, no. The demon finished that. I could’ve saved Will – the warden – too if I hadn’t chosen to take a fucking nap right beforehand. A nap! You almost drowned because I was late, too! God, I’m so pathetic.”

The more I told, the more frantic I became, trying to justify myself, dreading the verdict that would fall upon me at the end.

“I didn’t have a choice! I was just born from a coffin, new to this hell. I thought it was a dream. I wanted to ask her if she was ok. But then, y’know. Self defense! Self defense, they say! But the rock. The rock was so heavy, it wasn’t an accident, and…”

There was no hiding that I was somehow just making excuses.

“… but it’s wrong to kill. It’s murder. It’s a sin and I’m already here just trying to be my best self. I just want to get out of this hell! But I can’t. It’s like every time I take a step, someone or something trips me up! I can’t just run away either, half the time it’s me who’s doing the tripping, and I have to either do the right thing and die or do the wrong thing and live with the guilt. It’s wrong, I’m doing something wrong, I just know it. I…”

By the end I was numb. Numb to the pain in my body. Drained emotionally as well as physically. Completely empty.

“…I have to redeem myself. Not just for what I did here. There’s a sin, there’s some reason why I’m in hell in the first place. I’m bad, I’m a sinner and I have to do the right thing. If I don’t...” I shrugged apathetically, “…then who says I won’t wake up in that same grave the next time I die? And the next time. And the time after that. The time after that. And…”

I gave the wolf a look of pure apathy. We were both sitting at this point, him opposite me, me next to Pim, who I really shouldn’t be burdening with the sort of spiraling dread that was worrying my stupid ass. He was pretending not to listen or care as he continued working on making George a makeshift splint out of twigs.

At least he’s innocent and good. It might be too late for me.

The wolf was silent. Not a single sound had come from him, not then, not now. Not a creak from his armor as he pondered my plight, one hand on the ground, the other on his sword lying on his lap. We both sat there for quite a few tense minutes. Finally, he shifted his hand, signaling the end of the silence.

This is it. This is the judgement call. He’s gonna tell me that I’m right to feel guilty. That I’m an idiot, weak, a murderer, a demon. That I did wrong, that I have to work harder if I really want to repent. After all, what’s agonizingly risking my life, injury and death against the salvation of my soul? I survived once; I can do it again, right? Haha.

Maybe he’ll just execute me and so I can start over again. I hope I’m worth giving a third chance.

“You…” he said, falling into silence again. He was tapping one finger on his leg, the armor on armor making quiet tack tack tack noises. Agony.

“You are an idiot.” There! SEE! I knew it. That’s point one. Next comes weakling, murderer, then demon. In that order.

“A huge idiot.” Yup.

“A massive fool.” That’s me.

“Honestly, I’m amazed at how many wrong assumptions can fit in such a small head.” Ok, ok, I get it. Next accusation please.

It didn’t come. He paused again, either being unsure what to say or just doing it on purpose. Why? It was anybody’s guess.

“Did your guide not fill you in? On the state of our world, our people, the creatures in the dark, anything at all?” He gestured towards Pim. I gave him the look of a huge idiot, a massive fool, a small-minded moron.

“Pim?”

“No. Not the kid. The rat.” Pim held George up as if he was some sort of three-legged messiah. He wasn’t, of course, but he was a good rat. He now had a little improvised splint around his wounded back leg, wrapped in leaves. Cute.

I’ll have to check if he did it right later. Oh wait, no, I’m not gonna be alive soon enough.

I looked back at the wolf. “What does George have to do with anything? He’s innocent, I’m the guilty one.“ He didn’t seem very convinced.

“No.”

“No? NO!? What do you mean, ‘no’!? I killed five people, at least. George was just watching; he didn’t help me commit murder!” That was a lie, but I had to cover for George. He at least was a good bean.

“I’ll kill more, I’ve got no other choice, it’s self-defense, it always is but that’s no excuse and I’m too weak to just knock them out, I’m–“

“LISTEN TO YOURSELF!” That was the first time he really raised his voice at me. To be honest, it scared me. Only a bit tough.

“Your rat has nothing to do with this. It is quite evident to me now that he is in fact not a guide but a simple rat. This is about you. Do you understand?” I, uh, guess. So we agree George is innocent. Hooray?

I nodded and he continued.

“You’re saying that you’re a danger to the people you’ve met. People who assailed you the moment you tried anything that wasn’t violence? People who refused to talk, people who have killed others. Yet you still feel guilty about their deaths at your hand? “

“Well, yeah, it was probably a misunderstanding, they didn’t–”

“You’re either a liar or the second worst fool I’ve ever met. Does your own life mean nothing to you?”

“I, well, no. I mean yes, I mean…” How am I supposed to react to that? Yes, I want to live? That’s a given! No, it’s not worth more than anyone else’s? That too! It’s worth less actually. I’m a demon, after all.

“And somehow, despite only defending yourself from an assault entirely unprovoked, you refuse to think that you were justified in killing them?”

“No! I mean, yes! If I’d been faster, been stronger, if I could have talked clearly people wouldn’t have died. Living people! People with lives and dreams and families.”

Why wasn’t he getting it? People are people. And if people died because I wasn’t good enough to do something about it, anything, then it had to have been my fault, right?

“If I’m not good enough, everyone else will suffer.”

“Listen. To. Yourself. You say you are weak, you are slow, and it is true. But you refuse to admit that you couldn’t have been faster, you couldn’t have been stronger, and you most certainly did what you could for those deserving of your help. As for the others?”

I tried to protest, but he cut me off.

”They. Are. Not. Your. Responsibility. They are your enemy. If they choose to try and kill you, that is their decision, and they should reap what they sow. You say you took your time but by my counting, you weren’t out too long and when this Bekki woman overwhelmed you, at the latest when she shattered your wrist, you would have been completely justified in legging it.”

“But, but, but… the old lady.”

“You should have left her. You had no place in that fight. You killed her in the end, somehow. But she was wounded. Very wounded. You say you approached her with a rope and a… pan?”

“Y-yes.” I was feeling meeker by the moment, shrinking, getting smaller and smaller. He let out an exasperated sigh that echoed in a tinny way inside his helmet.

“That only proves my point. You should not be out here. You are not ready. You have no place trying to save every rabid dreg in this sodden place and you would do well to note that they are all rabid, raving, insane and bestial.”

“…is dreg what you call people who’ve come back for a second chance?”

“Yes. And as far as my judgement goes, all you have done is what any sane person would have. Every person that has fallen by your hand deserved it; you can be sure of that. Defending yourself against mindless assault is not murder.”

“…that won’t stop me feeling guilty about it.”

I hated that he was making sense. I hated even more that I couldn’t just accept it. It would have been so easy to just say ‘not my problem’ and then live a life without worries. That wasn’t me. Not who I wanted to be. Not who I was.

“No, it will not.” He sighed. “Guilt will not kill you. People with heavy sticks and pointy swords will. Next time, are you just going to lie down at let them beat you to death in silence?”

“There has to be a better way. Like talking.”

“You did talk. Look what that got you. It did not get you out of a brawl. It got you noticed and then got you into a fight regardless. It almost got you killed.”

“They’re only out to get me because I’m a demon.” I muttered, barely audible. He still picked up on it and leaned forward. I tried to meet his gaze, but I couldn’t. Even looking to the side, I felt it bore right through me.

“I suggest you choose your next words very carefully.”

“I, well… I eat souls. I glow, see?” I flailed around in a gesture that hopefully got across what I was getting at. “It gets bigger when I kill something. Fleas, spiders. People. Humans don’t glow normally. Humans don’t consume souls. I know that. Demons do. They can’t go to the sun that way, the souls that is. That’s why they’re bad. That’s why I don’t deserve the same leniencies that other people, actual humans, do.”

There was silence again. I hesitated, but eventually looked him back in the face. It was buried in both of his hands. A muffled and tinny scream escaped from his helmet. It took some time before he spoke again.

“That… makes sense if that’s how you were thinking about it.” Finally he’s getting it. Now, can we move on to the execution already? I’m just tired.

“It is completely wrong, of course.” What? Oh c’mon, I thought we were making progress.

“Everything is wrong. You are not a demon. We are not in hell. And you are not guilty of any crime that cannot be acquitted through the use of common sense.”

“W–what? H–hold on, I think you glanced over some really important things there.”

“It will take too long to explain. We have already stalled more than we should have. This place is no longer safe, especially with the death of the wardens.” I winced at that last part. “It really was not your fault.”

“But, but… she’s dead.” I pointed to the corpse inconspicuously lying a bit off to the side.

“And who killed her?”

“Well, the demon lady.”

“The Bekki” He corrected.

“Yes, her. But only because she followed me! You can’t deny that!”

“It does not matter. You said the Bekki killed the other warden before you’d arrived?”

I nodded.

“Then do you think she would not have killed the old lady if you hadn’t been around?”

That… was a point. It wasn’t enough to erase the pervasive guilt within me, but I’d remember it. Hopefully.

“She was already dead when I came back. I strangled the dem– the Bekki out of… revenge. Hate. Fear.”

He sighed and got up. I took that as the sign that I was in fact not getting executed for my crimes against humanity today and that I’d have to suffer a while longer. I picked up Pim and he gave me a squeeze.

“You're a good human.” He whispered.

“Thanks. But no, I’m really not.”

“Oh, by the Maker’s left boot sole, you are also stubborn as an ass and smell twice as bad. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Hey! That’s just rude and uncalled for and hurtful and…“ I looked myself up and down. I was covered in blood, rotted swamp grime and what I was pretty sure was dried fish slobber. I only really smelled the blood, but that was probably because there was still a lot stuck in my nose.

“You are an idiot.” The wolf said and I was about to retort when he continued. “If there is anything I would accuse you of, it would be that you seem a kind idiot. Too kind.”

Well… if that’s the final verdict for the day, I’ll just have to take it. I could live with being too kind. Actually, it might be what would get me killed. I didn’t have to rescue the wolf from his prison. No one was forcing me to share food with Harris. Carrying Pim was slowing me down a lot and I might have even been able to defend myself against the flea host if I had had a hand free for a weapon. But I did it, I’d do it again and I’d do it gladly.

I sighed, at least some of the weight lifting off my shoulders. It lasted only for a moment though, as the wolf gave me more actual, physical weight in the form of the woman’s studded club. Pim took them both and almost fell off my shoulder with the sudden imbalance of weight. George squeaked tiredly.

“I believe being kind is one of the three things that gets people killed in this age.” He said.

“What?” First time I’d heard of it. “What are the other two?”

“Well…” He turned away from the grizzly scene of dead bodies and empty husks, in a direction I’d never been before.

“Hubris. And indifference. Now.” He lowered himself down and offered a hand. “Allow me to carry the child.”

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